


Slight Technical Problem

by Salomonderiel



Category: James Bond (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Domestic, Humour, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-11
Updated: 2012-11-11
Packaged: 2017-11-18 10:58:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/560283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salomonderiel/pseuds/Salomonderiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Done for this prompt for qbond tumblr's mission00q: </p>
<p>“You’ve got another thing coming, if you think I’m sticking my hand in there!”</p>
<p>...don't think anything more needs to be said, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slight Technical Problem

There was a problem.

Technically, it was with the equipment.

So, as was protocol when there was a problem with the equipment, Bond called the nearest technician.

“Dear?”

“Mm?”

“Come in here for a second, would you?”

“...Why?”

“Just do it, would you?”

No taking his eyes off the developing problem, Bond heard the scraping of a chair on the tiles, and Q muttering to himself as he shuffled through to where Bond was waiting, in his slippers.

As the door creaked open, Bond look over his shoulder at Q, lips twitched in almost-humour, before turning his gaze back down at the equipment.

“James.”

“Q.”

“I’m slightly concerned about asking this, but... why are you staring into the toilet?”

“I’m not staring into the toilet, I’m staring at that thing you gave me.”

“No, I’m relatively confident that you’re staring into the toilet.”

Wordless, Bond beckoned Q forwards. There was a bit more mumbling before the genius was parallel with him, the words being lost into the mug he was pressing against his lips and clasping in his hands in a desperate attempt to stay warm, the hands themselves lost in the huge sleeves of the oversized jumper he appeared to be drowning in.

Bond himself was wearing tracksuit bottoms and a loose white shirt.

He was also, he was starting to think, soon going to have a few more bruises.

The instant Q understood what Bond was going on about, he said, quite loudly, “Oh, for fuck’s sake James!”

“Q?” he asked, head tilted and face into that perfect expression of innocence he put so much faith in. It wouldn’t stand up to Q’s scrutiny, but it was worth a try.

“That was expensive, James!”

“Was it?”

“Do you know how long I spent on that? Perfecting it? Making the mechanisms small enough?”

“A day, wasn’t it? You might have said, once or twice.”

“And my days are very valuable! There’s a lot I can do in a day! And I spend it on making that for you and then you go and _drop it in the toilet!_ ”

“Well, if it’s so good and used up so much of your time, then I’m sure it’s water-proof, yes?” Bond suggested, crossing his arms and turning to face Q, still trying to maintain innocence as the young-yet-rather-frightening man glared furiously, both at him and the watch in the toilet.

But then, with a blink, the glare was gone, replaced by a more peaceful thoughtful expression. “Well, actually, now you mention it, it might be,” he mused, turning from Bond to lean and peer down into the bowl.

“What I thought. So it’s fine, then?”

“Should be,” Q muttered, tilting his head slightly to get a look at all angles of the watch, checking for any damage. And then he froze. “Wait,” he said, slowly straightening up and looking across at Bond, suspicion written quite clearly on every feature, “If you knew it was fine... why did you call for me? I was busy!”

“Dipping biscuits in your tea,” Bond clarified.

“Yes, which qualifies as being busy, and you still haven’t explained why you called me!”

Shifting his weight to his other foot and readjusting his folded arms slightly, Bond frowned at Q. “Well, it’s a piece of equipment,” he said slowly, as if explaining to someone stupid. “And that’s _your_ area of expertise.”

He waited, then, for it to click.

Slowly, about a millimetre per minute, Q’s eyebrows rose, vanishing into the messy mane of a fringe. “...you want _me_ to get that out for you?” he asked, and if he didn’t sound furious just yet, Bond knew it was only a matter of time.

“That was the idea.”

“You’ve got another thing coming, if you think I’m sticking my hand in there!”

Ah, _there_ was the fury.

“Equipment,” Bond explained, gesturing into the toilet with both hands, “Quartermaster,” he continued, touching his fingertips to Q’s chest. “See?”

His hands were beaten off Q’s chest by the base of the mug. Apparently, attacking him wasn’t worth removing hands from the warmth of the mug. “This isn’t a bloody technically difficulty, James!” Q blustered, “You dropped your watch down the toilet-”

“Yes, I know, I did it, and you’ve said that already-”

“- which is _not_ something that requires technical skill, especially not technical skill of my level!”

“Q-”

“No.”

“Love-”

“ _No._ ”

“Beauty-”

“ _Fuck_ no, James!”

As Q turned and flounced from the room, slippers slapping on the floor with each step, Bond chuckled. He was still smiling as he knelt beside the bowl and started to reach into the toilet for his new and upgraded watch.

It had been worth a try.

**Author's Note:**

> I genuinely don't know where I got the idea from, but I hope it made you smile!   
> Also posted on qbond.tumblr.com, or will be posted soon, depending on how fast their queue is.


End file.
